Strawberry Cupcakes
by headinthecloudsgirl
Summary: It's Chase's birthday and Park decides to bake him cupcakes. What was meant to be nice, ends with the need of an EpiPen... because I couldn't resist an allergic Chase :) One-shot


**A/N: Does anyone actually still read fanfiction from House except for me? Well, I still love House and I love Chase even more, so I couldn't resist to write a little one-shot :) It's somewhere in the 8th season, but Chase cut his hair only recently...**

**Usual disclaimers and usual huge thanks to my beta kensi54382!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Park entered the large conference room with the glass walls, a smile on her lips and her hands tightly grabbing a huge plastic box. Cupcakes. Seemingly dozens of them were stacked in that box, some with an icing, some with chocolate sprinkles – just every type of cupcakes you could possibly think of.

Chase sat, as usual, with crossed legs at the table, the crossword puzzle balancing on top of his right knee. He was chewing on his pen, which was securely tucked between his teeth, while going through every possible answer he could think of. Just some weeks ago, his hair would have fallen in his face, with him sitting like that and Park would have commented once again that his hair was way too long, but now that wasn't the case – he had cut it. He knew Park less than two months and she already persuaded him into cutting is hair short.

When she put the box on the table, Chase looked up from his puzzle and gave her one of his short, but oh-so-beautiful, smiles before he eyed the cupcakes. He hadn't even had the chance to open his mouth to say something, as Park cut him short.

"I heard that it's your birthday today and I know that your parents are dead and the rest of your family lives in Australia and then I thought that you certainly wouldn't make a big deal of it. And then I thought that you deserved a nice birthday so I baked these cupcakes for you and … happy birthday!"

She was talking too much – again.

"Thanks, Park, really. I can't recall the last time someone baked for me," Chase said and asked himself if he had ever gotten a cake. His mother had been too drunk to even stand straight most of the time and his father hadn't given a damn about his birthday.

He grinned at Park. By now he was used to her odd, but completely loveable, behavior, but he couldn't help but notice how different she was compared to her predecessors. He would never figure out how House chose his doctors, hell he would never figure _House_ out. He allowed the short hug he was pulled into before he sunk on his chair again and was saved by Adams from an awkward moment.

"Cupcakes?"

"It's Chase's birthday!" Park beamed with a glance at the doctor who looked slightly uncomfortable.

"No big thing, A day like every other," he said as he was done with being congratulated by Adams as well and sat once again on his chair.

He could literally feel the glances of his colleagues and reached, by now smiling, for one of the cupcakes with light-yellow icing. His birthdays had been irrelevant for so long that the thought that someone cared for him and even baked for him, wasn't as uncomfortable as he dreaded at first.

"Dig in!" Chase grinned and watched how Adams and Park grabbed each a cupcake for themselves before he took a bite from his.

Not even twenty seconds after his bite and swallowing the first bit of it, Chase had a déjà-vu he would have liked to spare.

"What's that taste? Is that... strawberry?"

He let the cupcake fall with a jerk, got up and felt, just seconds after eating that thing, that breathing became harder.

_Not good_, that was the thought that crossed his mind.

Park had wanted to do him a favour but instead caused him to have an allergic reaction. A severe allergic reaction. Chase felt like a fish that was stranded on a beach – no matter how much he gasped for air, he got less and less oxygen in his lungs, blood and by that in his brain. Hastily, he got to his feet, one hand grabbing the back of the chair, the other on his throat. House chose that exact moment to storm into the room.

"Wombat, what are you doing there?" he bickered.

House was just starting to pick at his duckling again, as he actually became aware of the situation in the conference room. Adams and Park open-mouthed on their chairs. A cupcake, just a bite missing, on Chase's place. The harsh breathing of his wombat. Oh oh. He, too, thought of the bachelor party, where he had almost killed Chase with the body butter of a stripper. To his defence, he had been hallucinating back then.

"Never seen an anaphylactic shock? Shoo! You know what to do! Get oxygen and a gurney, now!" House yelled more or less at the women who suddenly seemed to wake up from their state of shock and darted away in two different directions. House let go of his cane and grabbed Chase's biceps.

"Chase, where is the EpiPen?"

* * *

His mucosa was swelling. Chase could literally feel how histamine was released in too high dosages into his bloodstream. He tried to collect his thoughts as good as possible and then panted between two desperate gasps for air, "My bag… front."

The doctor in Chase took over and looked at the situation with distance and soberness. He had maybe one minute left until his airways closed completely, maybe thirty seconds until he lost consciousness – the dropping of the blood pressure obviously visible by the paleness of his skin. After exact twenty seconds, House spent searching for the adrenalin, Chase blacked out. After another five seconds, Adams stormed in the room, oxygen mask at the ready. She immediately put it on Chase's face and then elevated his feet.

"Doesn't he have an EpiPen?" she asked unbelievingly with a glance at House, who now held Chase's bag upside down and poured the contents on the floor.

The beloved crossword puzzles, pens, a wallet and much more fell clattering to the ground. What was missing was the small syringe filled with epinephrine. House kept shaking the bag, hoping that there were some inside pockets yet to be emptied.

"Where the hell is that syringe, damn…" House stopped in the middle of the sentence as he finally saw the little yellow item tumbling to the ground.

As fast as he could manage with his crippled leg, House hurried over to his doctor, who lay unconscious on the carpet, the oxygen mask only minimally fogged. Even while he fell to the ground, House had uncapped the EpiPen and rammed the needle in Chase's thigh – he didn't even flinch.

"Come on, Chase!" House snapped at him and watched Adams, who had her fingers back on his carotid artery.

"Pulse is getting stable," she breathed out but still didn't move a millimetre, "Where's Park?"

As on command, Park stepped through the glass door, two nurses rolling a gurney in tow.

"Well, you would think you got one of these easier – in a hospital," House stated dryly.

* * *

When Chase woke up, he was tucked in a blanket with an IV line ending in his hand, an oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose and a throat that felt like he had tried to eat sandpaper. Strawberry cupcakes. He couldn't help but chuckle softly. What an irony – the first time in years someone cared about his birthday and he ended up lying in a hospital bed in the exact hospital he was working for. His chuckling raised the attention of Park, who had been sitting by his bedside for what seemed like an eternity on the most uncomfortable chair she ever sat on.

"Hey. Are you feeling better? I'm so, so sorry, Chase. I didn't know that you're allergic, if I knew, I would never have…"

"It's okay," Chase croaked and thankfully took a sip of the water Park offered him, before he started talking again, "its okay. How could you have known? I should have been more careful."

Dear God, was that his voice? It hadn't been his first allergic reaction by far, but it hadn't been that severe for a long time. Most of the times, he had had only minimal contact to the allergens, for example when someone had cut strawberries, didn't clean the knife thoroughly enough and then he had made himself a sandwich with it. Minimal contact, not a huge bite from a strawberry cupcake.

The last times it had happened, he had had Cameron at his side, who, as an immunologist, had always known what was going on in his body and had been able to foresee what was going to happen next. Either Park had forgotten that part of medical school, she hadn't paid attention in immunology, or she was just too nervous to think clearly, but she forgot what tended to happen after a severe reaction. Chase noticed very clearly that he felt sicker by every second that passed. His body started to rebel against what had him passing out. Closing his eyes, Chase took a deep breath and tried to keep the nausea at bay.

"Park? Would you help me to the bathroom?"

He had absolutely no intention at all to vomit his breakfast into an emesis basin his colleague, whom he didn't find that unattractive, was holding. It was bad enough that he had to ask for help to get into the bathroom, but he knew that his legs wouldn't be able to carry his weight right now.

"You really shouldn't get up. Your blood pressure still is too low and you will most certainly get dizzy," Park argued and looked at Chase with huge eyes.

"Please, it's important." Chase wasn't sure how long he could manage to keep control over his body and used his best puppy eyes.

"Okay." Park surrendered and was surprised by how fast Chase had the blanket next to him, the oxygen mask pulled away from his face, IV disconnected and got up from the bed with her help. As soon as his feet touched the ground, every bit of color he had left vanished from his face and cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

"Are you okay?" Park asked, concerned, and tightened her grip on him. She was a petite person and surely wasn't able to carry his weight if he should pass out.

Chase only managed to shake his head slightly and kept his eyes firmly shut, while he let himself be led by Park. It wasn't a good idea to open his mouth right now. Park looked at her colleague more closely after getting only the shake of the head and finally pieced his problem together.

"Oh dear…"

The last steps to the bathroom that every private room had next to it, Park walked faster and then let Chase stumble the rest of the way to the toilet by himself. Even if she was a doctor, she felt a bit helpless as Chase violently expelled all of the food he had eaten today. Park saw him as a friend and she didn't quite know to react. Finally, she kneeled next to him and rubbed his back, until Chase eventually leaned his head against the wall next to him. Even the cool tiles didn't help the massive headache he had. He took one last calming breath and then opened his blue eyes.

"Better?"

"Not really, but thanks," he smiled back and allowed Park, after flushing the toilet, to guide him back to bed, where she made sure that he was tucked in and had a basin within reach, before she went to go and get something for the nausea.

Thinking of something better, she shortly glanced at Chase and then bent down to lightly kiss his cheek.

"Happy birthday," she breathed and got out of the room in such a haste that it seemed as if she fled from something.

Chase put his oxygen mask back on that was still lying next to him, before a smile crept over his face. Maybe this birthday wasn't _that_ bad.

* * *

**A/N: So how did I do? Good, too cheesy? I'd be nice of you to leave a review, but no pressure :D**


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